


The Light Through the Window

by surlybobbies



Series: Porch Light [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff, M/M, SPN Fluff Bingo, SPN Fluff Bingo 2018, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 03:34:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14584068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surlybobbies/pseuds/surlybobbies
Summary: "Cas and I will take the pull-out, then," Sam said.Dean cleared his throat.  “Yeah, uh,” he started.  He didn’t know how to broach this topic since he and Cas had only really been athingsince 15 minutes prior to this conversation, but he also didn’t want Cas sharing a bed with Dean’s brother when Dean had a perfectly good queen-sized memory foam bed.  “I’ve got a bed to share, dude.”Sam was looking out the window.  “I’ll bunk with you, then” is all he said, oblivious to Dean’s mental struggle.(Dean and Cas navigate the first few hours of a fledgling relationship.  A sequel to Porchlight, though it can stand alone.)





	The Light Through the Window

**Author's Note:**

> Finally! This has been sitting in my docs forever. Rebloggable link at the end. Also, look forward to my flipfest posting in a little over 12 hours!!
> 
> This fic fills my bingo square of bed-sharing.

“So you’re both staying with me at least for a week until the fumigators are done at Mom’s.”

Sam yawned from the back seat. He had taken the back seat without much fuss, just smacking Dean on the back of the head then throwing his bag into the car. “Sounds good. Cas and I will take the pull-out, then.”

Cas hummed in assent, though Dean wasn’t sure how much listening was getting done because Cas hadn’t stopped staring at their two interlocked hands since they had gotten into the car at the airport. 

Dean cleared his throat. “Yeah, uh,” he started. He didn’t know how to broach this topic since he and Cas had only really been a _thing_ since 15 minutes prior to this conversation, but he also didn’t want Cas sharing a bed with Dean’s brother when Dean had a perfectly good queen-sized memory foam bed. “I’ve got a bed to share, dude.”

Sam was looking out the window, seeming bored. “I’ll bunk with you, then” is all he said, oblivious to Dean’s mental struggle. Dean winced. He couldn’t kick his brother out now that his brother had invited himself in. He spared a glance toward Cas, but Cas seemed ignorant of Dean’s original plan. Cas just smiled, his gaze dipping down to Dean’s lips.

Dean squeezed Cas’s hand. _Dammit, Sammy._

 

 

The sun had set by the time they got to Dean’s home. “Haven’t been here in years,” Sam mused, pulling his luggage from the trunk of the Impala. “It looks good.”

Dean swelled with pride. He’d worked hard to get this home and worked even harder to maintain it. “Thanks, Sammy.”

Cas came up beside him, bags in hand, his eyes soft and sincere when he told Dean, “It’s seems like a wonderful home.” He turned his head and Dean followed his line of sight. “The porch light really is on,” Cas mused.

“Thought I was lying to you or what?”

“I think I liked it better when it was just a metaphor,” Cas said.

Dean threw him a sour look, but otherwise he ignored the remark, pulling his key out and opening the front door silently. As Sam shuffled in with his luggage, Dean caught Cas looking at the lamp near the door again. When Cas followed Sam in through the door, Dean saw Cas’s eyes were shining, and when Cas reached a hand out to him, he took it.

 

 

“Your cooking is very good,” Cas said admiringly after demolishing two of Dean’s burgers. 

Dean grinned from across the table at Cas, his mouth still full of beef. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, pouring as much sweetness as he could into the endearment. Sam’s put-upon sighs were becoming the soundtrack to the beginning of Dean and Cas’s romance, but Dean wouldn’t have changed it for the world. 

“If there were a muse of cuisine, he’d be named Castiel,” Dean said.

Cas’s eyes were affectionate even though he tried his best to seem unimpressed. “Your jokes aren’t particularly good, though.”

“That would have hurt if I’d been joking,” Dean said, winking.

From across the dining table, Sam made a noise like he’d found something distasteful in his burger - but since Dean knew there was _nothing_ distasteful in the burgers he’d made, he knew his brother was just being a drama queen. “Go to bed if mommy and daddy are grossing you out.”

“Thank God,” Sam mumbled, throwing down his napkin. “Can I leave my plate here?”

“Just go and leave mommy and daddy alone.”

Sam got up and bid Cas a good night. “We’ll start sight-seeing tomorrow if you want.”

“That sounds great, Sam. Thank you.”

Sam lifted a hand and started toward Dean’s bedroom.

Dean turned to Cas, reaching out to take Sam’s dishes where he had left them. “I wash, you dry?”

Cas arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you put guests to work in this home.”

Dean’s smile was crooked and more than a little affectionate. “I love how you call this place a home.”

“If you’re trying to distract me with flattery, it’s not going to work.”

“You’re gorgeous.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Come help me with the dishes, handsome.”

“ _Incorrigible_ ,” Cas repeated, but he followed where Dean led, picking up his dishes and cutlery as he did.

 

 

The dishes got done, more or less, but with Cas at Dean’s side splashing him with water, and Dean using whatever dish he was holding as a shield, there was even more of a mess to clean up afterward. 

Finally, after hauling out the mop to clean the floor, Dean led Cas to the couch. He set up the pull-out bed, handed Cas some blankets and pillows, and stood awkwardly to the side as Cas pulled his toothbrush from his bag.

“Well,” Dean said, suddenly nervous now that there were no more little brothers to gross out and there were no more dishes to wash or burgers to eat. “Good night, Cas.” He felt like Cas’s date at the end of the night, standing on Cas’s porch, vacillating between a good night kiss and a friendly hug.

Cas too seemed to be suffering from the same affliction. He stood with one hand clutching his toothbrush and the other clutching his toothpaste, both items held out in front of him at right angles to his body. “Good night, Dean,” he said, somewhat slowly. 

They stood staring at each other for a few seconds more before Dean nodded, said, “Good night” again, then turned on his heel into the hallway that led to his bedroom. 

The bedroom was quiet. Dean sighed when he saw Sam sprawled in the middle of his bed, mouth open. 

Dean shuffled over and pushed on his brother’s shoulder. “Budge over.” Sam grumbled but did as he was told. 

Still, after Dean brushed his teeth, he squinted into the darkness of his bedroom and saw his six-and-a-half-foot brother on his stomach, spread eagle in the middle of Dean’s memory foam bed.

“You fucker,” he breathed. He shoved Sam over - the giant didn’t even wake up - and tried to reclaim his bed, pulling at his blanket until there was just enough to wrap around him and press to his cheek.

An hour of tossing and turning later, Dean conceded that his queen-sized memory foam bed would not accommodate two full-grown Winchesters, especially when one was the size of Paul Bunyan with hair the length of Rapunzel’s.

He sat up and rubbed a hand over his eyes, thinking about what Cas might think if Dean wandered into the living room, brewed some coffee, and sat near Cas’s knee and just _watched._ Their relationship - God, was it even a relationship? They hadn’t even talked about it, and Dean couldn’t even _kiss him good night -_ was new and fragile and really, they’d only spent four days in total together, _if that,_ and -

“ _Stop thinking,_ ” Sam groaned, flinging an arm into Dean’s face. 

“Well, I tried sleeping,” Dean said, pushing Sam’s hand away, “but there’s an asshole in my bed.”

“Missed you too,” Sam sighed, eyes still closed, and punctuated his brotherly affection by shoving Dean off the bed.

 

 

So Dean wandered into the kitchen for an ice pack. After finding one, he quietly poked his head into the living room. He was surprised to find Cas sitting at the edge of the pull-out, elbows to knees, hands slowly running through his hair.

“Hey,” Dean said, too loud in the dim light. “What are you doing up?”

Cas’s head jerked up. “Dean,” he said, his shocked expression melting into an affectionate smile. “Hello again.”

Dean bit back a smile, slipping into the room. He gestured to the pull-out, his hand dangling awkwardly in the air. “My couch too lumpy or what?”

“No, not at all,” Cas murmured, pulling his legs back on the bed and under the covers. “I couldn’t stop thinking is all.”

Dean stepped a little closer. Cas licked his lips. 

“Well,” Dean said, “Don’t let me get in the way of your thinking.” Despite his words, he crept even closer until his knees brushed against the comforter that hid Cas’s legs. In the dim light cast by the streetlights outside, Dean saw the shadow on Cas’s throat bob up and down. 

“I’d welcome a distraction, actually,” Cas said, his voice impossibly soft. He moved an inch in. Then another. It was an invitation if Dean ever saw one.

Dean swallowed down his nerves and lifted a knee into the space left by Cas. The mattress groaned. “Gotta get another guest bed,” he said gruffly, but then he was flat on his back with Cas’s residual heat a long line against his spine, and Cas was watching him with half-lidded eyes, so he fell silent. 

Dean ignored the weight of Cas’s gaze; he smoothed the covers over himself and adjusted the pillow underneath his head. Then he stared up at his ceiling fan, watched it spin and spin and spin until Cas’s voice interrupted him.

“Having fun?”

“Loads.”

“Well, I’m not,” Cas said, but the way he was smiling belied his words. “I told you I could do with a distraction but you’d rather stare at your ceiling fan.”

“Did you have something else in mind?”

“A good night kiss would be nice,” Cas said, so seriously that Dean snorted. But then Cas continued. “I was hoping for one earlier but…”

The words were innocent, but the concept of kissing Cas good night was so new, so fresh; Dean scrubbed a hand over his face when he felt his cheeks blooming with heat. “I got nervous.”

“You weren’t nervous before.”

Dean mumbled, “There were people around before.” It was easy to pretend in front of Sam that this thing between him and Cas was easy, that this wasn’t the scariest thing to happen to Dean in his whole life. But in the dark, with only the soft hum of the air conditioning blurring into the background, everything felt too fragile, like it would disintegrate as soon as Dean touched his lips to it. 

He didn’t know how to explain it, but Cas didn’t ask him to. Instead, Cas smoothed a hand over Dean’s arm until he could link his fingers with Dean’s. His voice was low when he asked, “Are you still nervous?”

Dean shifted to look at Cas. The porch light shone through the dark curtain and cast Cas in soft blue light. When Cas caught Dean looking, he licked his lips. Dean shook his head. 

Cas raised his eyebrows in expectation.

Dean did all he could think to do at that moment: he leaned over and he pressed his lips to Cas’s, just once, just the slightest bit of pressure against pressure, then drew back.

Cas’s blue eyes were blown black, lips wet and shining in the light from the window. The sight made Dean’s heart thud in his chest. He pressed in again, his hand finding its way to Cas’s waist.

 

It was either twenty minutes or twenty years later that Cas yelped in shock after Dean shifted him onto his back. “What?” Dean breathed, pulling back from where he’d been biting a trail down Cas’s neck, “What is it?”

“What the fuck,” Cas said, panting, “is this?” He pulled out Dean’s ice pack from underneath him.

Dean pressed his forehead to Cas’s, breaths coming harsh. “The reason I’m out here in the first place.”

“To kill the mood?” Cas asked, pressing the pack to Dean’s heated cheek.

Dean swatted Cas’s hand away, scowling. “Sam pushed me off the bed.”

A _thump_ from the floor next to the pull-out told Dean that Cas had thrown the ice pack out of bed. Cas’s hands, however, were still cold when they resumed their track up Dean’s ribs. Dean shivered. Cas’s smile was slow and full of intention in the dim light. “I’ll have to thank him later,” he murmured.

“Later,” Dean agreed, dipping down to kiss Cas again. “A lot later.”

Outside, the porchlight shone. It would gradually fade in the day that dawned a few hours later, but neither Dean nor Cas would notice, their eyes closed and their legs tangled together.

**Author's Note:**

> Rebloggable link [here](http://surlybobbies.tumblr.com/post/173713213976/the-light-through-the-window-2k-deancas-fluff%22)!


End file.
